A Scream in the Night
by nifflewhopper
Summary: The sun washes over two silent figures--Petunia, crumpled in the hallway, covered in bruises and broken bones, and Harry Potter, unconcious in a locked bedroom. What happened? Please r/r, pretty please!!!


A/N: Enjoy, and please review! Oh, and I just finished reading 'Vengeance So Sweet', by VyingQuill. IT's BRILLIANT, you should definitely go read it. Go on, go! 

Please review, PLEASE???

Chapter One: Violence At Night

A yellow taxi-cab squealed to a grinding halt in front of 4 Privet Drive, pausing just long enough so that a young boy, accompanied by a large trunk, could slip out. Then it roared away, leaving nothing but the trunk, a cage, Harry Potter, and a cloud of dust. 

Harry braced himself for the inevitably bland summer that lay ahead of him after his fourth year. He left his things on the driveway and bounded up to the front door. He raised his hand and knocked. And knocked. And knocked yet again. Anxiously, Harry peered into the pattern of glass triangles embedded into the door. There was no sign of the Dursley family. Letting loose a defeated breath, Harry slumped against the door, having no choice but to wait until the Dursley's came back. 

He supposed the reason why he there in the first place was that Vernon Dursley had not yet forgotten, or forgiven, for that matter, about the Ton Tongue Toffee, and had sent a taxi to pick him up from the train station. And perhaps, when that was through with, all thought of leaving the door open, or staying home to welcome his nephew fled his mind. 

Suddenly, to Harry's surprise, he was almost bowled over by a rather strange, rather large, and rather unfamiliar owl, who seemed to be in quite a hurry. At least, it certainly seemed so to Harry, who kept receiving impatient nips as he fumbled with the package knotted on the owl's leg.  

Once he managed to unknot the small package, the owl seemed to settle a bit, having the grace to turn its head and give a hoot of thanks. Much to Harry's amusement, before the owl could snatch back it's leg, he caught sight of a thin tattoo-like mark on it's knee that looked suspiciously like a roadmap. The owl, as if reading Harry's thoughts, turned it's great silver eyes upon the package, and stared pointedly at it until Harry tore his gaze from the mark. 

Ignoring the rush of wind that signaled the owl's departure, Harry tore open the package, wondering who would send him anything so soon after term ended. His thoughts were answered when a letter fell into his lap, but were replaced by a new set of wonderings. 

_Harry,_

_After Cedric's body was cleaned and searched, we found the enclosed article concealed within the folds of his robe, no doubt by a Placement Charm.  I entrust this in your care, hoping that you may know more of it than I._

_--Albus Dumbledore_

 And Harry knew, certainly, that he knew no more of it than Dumbledore when a small box, covered in flowing symbols, tumbled gently into his open palm. 

At that moment, a car pulled into the driveway, almost knocking over Hedwig's cage. A purple-faced, generously proportioned man stormed out and slammed the car door before catching sight of Harry, apparently too engrossed in a cube that he was holding to be aware of his surroundings. 

"You!" he snarled, stalking up to the front door and shoving a key into the lock. Without another word, he shoved past Harry, leaving the door open. 

"Good day to you, too," Harry muttered, gathering his belongings and shuffling into the house, both box and letter safely tucked away in his jeans pocket. 

Nightfall found Harry in his room, a dim circle of lamplight surrounding him as bent over tiredly in his chair. 

He quickly pushed a lock of damp, sticky hair away from his sweat-beaded brow, eyes locked intently on the small box in front of him. His immaculately clean fingers probed the dimensions of the curious-looking contraption, searching for something they did not know—yet. A stone cold container of chunky stew sat untouched on the far corner of the heavy oaken desk, longing for, but not receiving, attention. 

_Give up, you'll never know what it is, _a thin, unnerving voice sprang to life in the hidden corners of his mind. Gritting his teeth, he plowed on, doggedly, stopping his probing every now and again to scribble a few illegible symbols onto a spare bit of slightly charred parchment (he had vented his growing frustration by giving the desk a sturdy kick, sending the parchment flying into the nearby fireplace).

As night progressed, Harry noticed that the symbols on the box grew brighter, glowing from some hidden light. The symbols, edged in green, had a hypnotic effect on Harry, as the green began softly blurring into shades of blue and black right in front of his eyes. 

He felt a sharp jerk under his navel, and, instinctively, he dropped the box. 

Screwing his eyes shut in fear, he cautiously extended a hand and tapped the cube with his finger before recoiling. Nothing happened. The glow faded slowly from the box, and Harry soon drifted off into uneasy slumber.

He wasn't quite sure why he awoke when he did. He thought he had heard something—a shout maybe? He eased out of bed when he heard an angry voice flash through the silence. 

"**_You did what_**?" The voice cracked through the air like a whip, insane and sharp. 

Alarmed, Harry slipped out of his room, careful to keep himself well hidden in the shadows. 

The door to the left of him swung open, revealing a massive, bulky frame being tugged out by a thin woman. 

Harry shrunk back further, hoping fervently that he wouldn't be discovered. 

"I d-don't know how it happened—at first it was just a physical attraction type of thing—really, Vernon, nothing happened…please, it was innocent…no moves made…nothing happened, really…" Petunia pleaded, hanging desperately onto Vernon's baggy pajama sleeves. 

Vernon remained silent, glaring at his wife through slitted eyes. His fists were trembling. 

_That doesn't sound too good…_Harry raised an eyebrow, wondering what was going on.  

"There's no excuse for that type of behavior," Vernon said flatly, voice buckling with restrained frustration. "After all these years…" 

Petunia said something under her breath that Harry couldn't quite catch, but he could tell by the tone of her voice that it wasn't something to be proud of. 

_CCCRACK! _

Harry's mouth dropped open, eyes frozen in horror. 

Vernon had hit Petunia solidly across the jaw. 

"You stupid woman—don't you understand ANYTHING of what you did? HE TOLD ME! They saw you there—saw you with that—that--" Flecks of spit flew from Vernon's mouth, smattering the fronts of his striped PJ top. "That good-for-nothing MONTAGUE…Kissing in front of all those people…how long have you been sneaking behind my back? HOW LONG? And finally, when I find out, you LIE. You have guts to sit there and LIE AT ME?" Vernon raised a beefy fist and smashed it into Petunia's ribcage, over and over, as if he were hitting nothing more than an inanimate wall. Over and over, his fist flashed in front of Harry, who stood, rooted to the spot, struggling to grasp what was happening. 

Petunia's scream cut through the air—pleading, pain-filled, guilty. "No, no, please…stop…." She was cut off as a well-placed blow hit the base of her skull, succeeding in knocking her out of conciousness. Vernon clambered slowly to his feet, breathing heavily, standing menacingly over the prone and still form of Petunia. 

Harry wondered wildly where Dudley was, then recalled that nothing could wake the fat, blonde boy from his sleep. He was the only one that could help. He had to do something, but he didn't know what. Taking a deep breath, he did a foolish thing. 

"Why did you do that?" He charged into Vernon, knocking him against a wall, pummeling him as hard as he could with knotted fists. 

His Uncle's eyes widened, red, rampant with rage, and bloodshot. "BOY!! GET back into your room! NOW!" 

"No. You deserve to be put in jail for this, you know that? I could call the police and they would come and put you away for—for—I don't know how many years…" Harry spat back, his vision clouding with exertion. 

Vernon stared at his nephew for a few seconds before growling, "I don't care, she deserved it." He grabbed Harry, lifting him into the air like a rag doll, before flinging him back into his bedroom and locking the door. 

Soon, morning came.  


End file.
